


Better the Devil You Know

by captainfyer



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Demons, Background Relationships, Demon Grimmjow, Demonic Possession, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-10-13 04:39:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17481347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainfyer/pseuds/captainfyer
Summary: When Ichigo gets kidnapped and wakes up strapped to an altar during a demonic ritual, he’s sure that his life is about to end.Apparently, the universe had other plans.





	1. Welcome Mat

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively; Two bros chilling in a body because they are gay.

It was evening as he walked home from work with his eyes on the ground. The sun hadn’t set in its entirety yet, but it was on its way. He followed the slight drag of his shoes over the pavement, not needing to keep a close eye on where he was going as he knew the route to his apartment well. Ichigo was tired. It had been a long shift and all he could think about was grabbing a snack and going to bed. He had moved out of his family home over a year ago now, holing up with a few roommates somewhere closer to his university. It had been a nice change of pace, and as far as he could tell, it had been good for him. Better than the standstill his life had felt like over the past few years at least. 

Not that where he was at now was exponentially better, but the change of scenery and the addition of friends in his daily life felt...nice. Different and nice.

He was scrutinizing some of the dirt on his shoe when he heard shuffling somewhere ahead before it abruptly stopped. He peered up and under his hood, to see a man a few years older than him, grimacing something nasty. Ichigo squinted under a few strands of his orange hair at the guy, hands tightening into fists within the front pocket of his sweatshirt. He looked like he could be someone Ichigo had met before, if he had a better memory for faces. He knew the type though, had fought lots of guys like him over the years (and won). Didn’t matter if he moved somewhere else, trouble always seemed to find him on account of his own resting bitch face and outlandish hair. Had he met this guy before? Hell if he knew.

To Ichigo he looked like he had been beaten recently in a brawl, with a bruise on his lower jaw to show for it. He squinted at that. Why would he come looking for a fight if he just got his ass handed to him? Then there was a metal glint in the fading light.

_A knife?_

Ichigo pulled a fist out and took a defensive step back, preparing for any movement from the guy. “Hey, bringing a knife to a fist fight isn’t fun for either of us, now is it?” he half joked. His eyes refocused on the object as the man pulled it out of his pocket completely.

_A gun._

Ichigo’s heart jumped as the realization hit him, and suddenly his hands felt a little cold staring at the gun being held by the man in front of him. He took in a quiet breath and slowly pulled his other hand out from the hoodie, unfurling his fists and raising his hands in open surrender. Fuck this fight actually, he needed to get out of there. Looking back at the man holding the now very real threat, he noticed that he looked about as scared as Ichigo felt. _What the hell? He’s the one with the gun._ He would have laughed had the guy not been holding his life in his two shaking hands; in the form of one small but very deadly firearm. Ichigo opened his mouth, “who are you? What is it you want?” _Where did he get a gun anyway?_

The man’s eye twitched, “who am I?” he asked. “You don’t remember?”

Ichigo blanked.

“A few weeks ago you picked a fight with my boys.” Ichigo only blinked as the other man continued, “and you kicked our asses in.”

_Oh shit._

Some sort of revenge then.

“After that, I never wanted to see your face again. None of us did.” he admitted.

Something was definitely off. 

“Then,” Ichigo started, “why are you here now?”

The man swallowed and cleared his throat. He raised the gun a little higher and said, “they told me they needed you to come with me.”

Ichigo’s brow furrowed. _They? Who the hell could that even mean?_ He opened his mouth to shoot out another question when he saw the eyes of the man in front of him flicker to the side. Ichigo had barely started to turn when a large object came crashing into the side of his head from behind. The world turned sideways and darkened as his body collapsed to the ground.

\---

The next thing he was aware of was a distant rhythmic noise. His head felt like hell, and everything was pitch black. As the distant sound became louder and more clear in his ears, he recognized it as some sort of chanting. He was lying down against a cold, hard surface with his eyes closed, head pounding like a drum. Slowly peeling one eye open before the second, he found that it wasn’t much brighter in whatever dingey sort of room he was currently in. It was lit very dimly with only candles and low burning lamps, big enough for the chorus of low voices to reverberate off of the walls, but small enough that it could easily be hidden underground. Not only did it lack light, but colour as well. There was a flight of stairs on the corner that appeared to be the only exit.

Ichigo tried to move and get a better grip on his surroundings only to find that he couldn’t. Any attempt to move his arms was met with restraint, and as he tried his legs he found that they wouldn’t move either. That jolted him awake. His eyes opened wide as he began straining against the ties with force. He looked around with more urgency and noticed the dark cloaked figures surrounding him. Well, that explained the chanting. His heart rate quickened as he got a vague grip on his situation. He was currently trapped God knows where, strapped down to something barely large enough to fit his whole body, and he was surrounded by a bunch of anonymous cultist freaks.

His voice croaked as he first tried to speak, “what the hell- what the fuck is going on?” he aggressed, but all he got in return was one of the hooded figures stepping forward. 

The sonorous chanting died down to a low continuous hum, all of the voices blending into the background. He attempted another kick with his leg as the cloaked person came forward, and Ichigo eyed him with such violence he would’ve dropped to floor, were it that looks could kill. But they couldn’t, and as the man stepped closer, he pulled from somewhere within his dark robes a small blade. As he steadied the blade in his hand, chanting a separate low verse, Ichigo caught a glint of the man’s eye with his own before another hand slipped out of the robe to rip the lower half of Ichigo’s top up his torso, exposing his lower belly.

Ichigo continued to strain against the ties to no avail, letting out a venomous string of curses, swearing up and down that he’d get out and bash every one of their faces in as the figure slowly brought the blade horizontal to his body. He slammed himself backwards down onto the cold surface, instincts trying to keep him away from the knife’s edge, but it only crept closer. 

He thought of his family.

Finally, the blade made contact with skin, and Ichigo’s thoughts went to chaos. He screamed, while the blade only continued to cut. It wasn’t fatally deep, just under half an inch, one straight carved line across his lower abdomen, the blood rising and flowing out onto the slab of stone beneath him. 

Ichigo’s breath was erratic and none of this made sense, he could no longer make out anything but the feeling of his own utter helplessness. His eyes stung and his heart lurched. And suddenly like a switch had flipped, there was nothing. It was dark, but he could still feel that he was conscious. His panic hadn’t subsided, but everything else had disappeared, and he was wrapped in a thick warm void. Suddenly near him and simultaneously very far away, he saw a bright blue light. Like a fire that wasn’t burning, but breathing. And then he heard actual breathing, deep and all around him like a roar in a cave. It morphed into laughter and the blue light danced and split into two bright feral eyes. Ichigo fell into darkness once more.

\---

The figure with the blade stepped back down and away from the altar as the rest of the hooded figures in the room fell to a quiet hush. Everything was quiet and still. It was silent for almost too long when suddenly the boy on the altar took in a huge gasp of air, like someone who had been drowning at sea finally reaching the surface. The hooded stranger closest to the altar still held the blade close, but backed away when there came a sizzling sound. Everyone watched the wound on Ichigo’s torso slowly heal and close up, the rope bindings breaking without struggle, as the boy on the altar slowly pulled himself up and into a sitting position. Then, he opened his eyes. They blazed blue, bright and frightening. The man closest to him dropped the blade to the ground and removed his hood, truly looking at what he had brought in. He bent one knee, and then the other as he lowered himself, face down, prostrated before what was on the altar. The others in the room followed suit.

The leader spoke, “My Lord, we have been preparing for your arrival this day for a long time. We have made all the necessary preparations for your coming to our world, including the body of this boy we found, strong enough to hold you in all of your power.”

Ichigo’s body on the altar lifted an arm and clenched a fist, as the blue eyes inspected what they could see of the body like they were appraising its usefulness. Indeed, it didn’t appear to be breaking down or burning from the inside out. 

Ichigo’s face was clearly no longer his own, but a stranger’s using his body, as his mouth curved into a vicious smile. From his lips came a voice deep and resonant, “all of my power?”

“Yes my Lord, it’s the strongest vessel we have come across.”

“That doesn’t mean shit,” he replied, lowering his arm back to the altar.

“My Lord?” The leader looked up, only to see two bright blue eyes staring directly into his, mere inches from his own face. The one possessing Ichigo’s body had moved into a crouch in front of him, a growing smile on his face.

“Gonna have to test it out.”

Before the man could reply, there was a flash of movement and his throat was slit with four perfectly clean lines. Blood came spilling out of the claw-shaped marks, and he gave one short choking noise as his body fell to the floor. 

Blue eyes followed the body as it fell, a sick sense of curiosity and pride in them like a cat after taking down its prey. A grin was still plastered to his face. He looked up at the other occupants in the room and at once they began to scramble away. 

Like a beast, he tore through the room, extended nails like claws ripping through any of the flesh he could come in contact with. When he had the last hooded fanatic in the room trapped under his foot, they grasped at his ankle, and looking up at him pleaded, “please my Lord, we did everything-” but the blue eyed grin only bent closer and hissed, “I ain’t your lord.” His arm reeled back, and the eyes of the hooded person widened in horror as death came crashing down on them.

Pulling away from the corpse, the newly welcomed demon glanced about at the bodies and tsked as he counted that one or two must have gotten away.

Dripping with blood, he climbed the stony stairwell at the far side of the room. He came up on a wooden door at the top that he shoved open. Stepping through it, he saw that the building the room had been contained in was just as dark and shitty. The floor turned to old wood and creaked loudly under foot. Somewhere it sounded like a pipe was leaking. Slowly he carried himself in the body of his host out into open air. He glanced at the sky and saw that it was still night out.

_Huh. So that’s what stars look like._

As he stared for a moment longer, he realized how much more difficult it felt to move the body now. “Damn thing has exhausted itself already.” he muttered. Keeping to side streets and away from any people, he carried them from the carnage he’d wrought. Cars passed distantly, and his vision began to blur the further he went. He of course had no idea in hell where he was headed, but he figured anywhere else would be better. His breath was ragged as the last strength of Ichigo’s body began to wane. He stumbled them down one more alley, dropping to the ground against a wall somewhere, and closed his eyes. Hopefully none of this would bite him too hard in the ass. Reluctantly, he relinquished control.

 

Ichigo was left alone in the dark alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you liked it/are interested to read more please leave a comment and let me know! or just tell me what you think. this is my first time writing an actual story or fanfic, so id just appreciate the feedback.
> 
> thank you for reading though! and im working on the next chapter :3


	2. Walk of Shame

Ichigo came to slowly, feeling entirely worse for the wear. Like a headache had moved to his entire body. His cheek was pressed into a puddle of what you could only hope was something as harmless as water. Scrunching up his face, he placed a hand on the ground, slowly lifting himself up to sit against the alley wall. It felt like a hangover, only worse. Also, something smelled like shit. He scratched at the back of his head and massaged his neck. _What the hell happened?_ He opened his eyes and looked around. It was still dark out. He shivered. Pulling his legs out from under him, he stood up using the stone wall behind him for support. Placing his hand on the wall, he started to edge toward the alley entrance to figure out where he was when he noticed something.

Splattered all down the sleeve of his arm, across his torso and his pants was a dark red. He stumbled from the wall, falling back on his ass, holding his hands up to his face. It was even embedded under his nails. He twisted his arms around, pulled at the bottom of the hoodie to get a better look, and eventually bent down to sniff at the darker spots. There was no doubt that this was blood, and a lot of it. He could tell at least that it wasn’t his, but that didn’t feel like much of a relief. _Seriously, what the hell happened? Was I drugged? Did I go berserk?_ He remembered getting jumped, but anything after that was foggy at best and trying to recollect anything gave him a massive headache. Maybe he got shot up with some crazy drug. One thing for certain was that he had fucked up, and really needed to get home.

 _You’re still alive, and that’s good enough,_ he thought to himself.

Pushing up and to the wall again, he walked to the end of the alley and peaked around it. A few street lights dimly lit the narrow road. It was lined with corner stores and small businesses he had never been to, even some residences. He had been here very rarely, but the area was familiar enough. Looking under the collar to the inside of his hoodie, the blood had predictably soaked all the way through. He huffed in frustration, and quickly pulled the hood over his head, covering his hair that was also matted with blood. He drew the drawstrings a little tighter to help hide his face.

 _At least it’s still late enough to be this dark. Or early enough?_ God only knew what time it was.

Sick orange light cascaded from the sparsely placed streetlights, keeping everything around it in shadow. In the distance a pair of stray cats fought, their screeches reaching silent dark windows, those with a penchant for the night, and one disheveled ginger-headed boy who was desperately in need of some good sleep. Despite the dead hour that it was, he played it safe and stuck to the side streets away from any possible higher traffic areas. The last thing he needed right now was to draw any attention to himself.

Eventually he made it up the street to his apartment complex. The grey tiled building stood starkly against the dark of the night. It wasn’t large, or new, and was far from fancy, just standard. He looked up at the third floor where his apartment was and glanced at the windows of the large balcony. They were just as dark as the rest. He began up the flights of stairs to his door. It was a short climb, and he had made the trip up to the third level many times in the past, but after the events of that night, it felt so much longer. He reached the top, heading down the outside hallway to his door. As silent as possible, he keyed the lock, twisted the handle, and silently let himself into the apartment. Standing for a few seconds in the entrance, he listened for any sign of his roommates being awake, but all that came was the low buzz of the fan from Ishida’s room. He sighed in relief, toeing his shoes off and slipping into the washroom across the small hallway.

The lights flickered before they came on fully, blinding Ichigo’s eyes for a second or two. Turning on the sink faucet, he got a look at his face in the mirror. God, did he look like shit. He pulled at a few strands of his hair noting the dried blood. He frowned. Rinsing his hands in the sink, he scraped at the blood under his nails. Dropping his head down, he let the warm water run over the back of his head. Ichigo closed his eyes while his hands worked through, rinsing out all the tufts of his hair. Once he was done, he stopped the faucet and pulled his head from the sink, and keeping his eyes closed, he stood quietly in the washroom for a minute. The ceiling light buzzed. Grabbing his towel, he started drying his hair as he turned the light off and stepped back into the hall.

One perk of this apartments layout was that almost everything he needed was on the opposite side of the apartment from his roommate’s rooms. This meant that if he had a late night due to work or otherwise, he’d be free to move around without disturbing them. He opened the door to his room, which had a laminated strawberry sticker taped to it (given to him by Rukia). His bed was in one corner with a nightstand next to a glass door that led to a smaller balcony of his own. Against the wall closest to Ichigo was a humbly sized wooden desk and chair to match, decorated with a small lamp and an assortment of books; some for school, some for recreation. At the far wall there was a sliding-door closet and a floor length mirror next to it.

Ichigo didn’t bother turning on the light, instead pulling out his phone and stripping off his sullied clothes, throwing them at the hamper. He closed the curtains and sat on the bed, checking his phone for anything important. He had one message from Rukia:

> 21:58: Get home safe ⌒( ÒㅅÓ)⌒ ”

He huffed a breath. Plugging the phone into its charger and setting it on the nightstand, he yawned and rubbed at his shoulder. His body still ached like hell, but at least he was home now. Chances were, whatever happened that night was going to bite him in the ass, but as far as he was concerned, he was a victim. After all, nobody chooses to place themself in an alleyway for a nap. Whatever had gone down he was too tired to sort any of it out. It was easier to pretend nothing had happened when you were back home. Maybe he’d just be able to sweep it all under the rug and carry on like normal. It probably wasn’t that big of a deal anyway. 

In the back of his mind he knew that was bullshit.

Pulling back his bed covers, he slid under with a heavy sigh, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

\---

Light streamed through the separated lines of his curtains, offering harsh lines that ripped through the dim light of his room. As hard as he tried, he could never shut out all the light when he wanted to sleep in. Ichigo’s eyes opened slowly as he stretched into wakefulness. He felt much closer to normal than he had last night, but still somewhat heavy, like he was weighing himself down.

Yawning, he scratched at his stomach when he noticed something peculiar. A long, thin indent across his lower torso; a scar that he didn’t remember ever having. His brow furrowed and he threw off his covers, stumbling out of bed and over to his mirror.

In the reflection he could clearly see a light pink scar across his stomach. He looked at it in confusion, brain trying to piece together the cause. No way could he have gotten that before last night. That’s not the type of thing you miss. He lightly traced his finger over it, trying to find an answer when-

 _ **You’re welcome,**_ came a deep resonant voice.

Ichigo nearly shit himself. He tumbled back, falling to the foot of his bed at the sudden loud voice. It didn't sound like it had been spoken into his ear, more like it had rung throughout his head entirely, stuck in forefront of his senses. He quickly looked around his room, knowing that he was alone but still searching for the source of the voice.

Nothing.

He looked at himself in the mirror, sat on the floor. Maybe this is some weird side effect from last night, and his brain is just making him hear things. _Yeah, that’s it._

Speaking of last night, he really needed a shower.

He got up off the floor, picking up his bloodied clothes from the previous night, as well as fresh ones from his closet. Cautiously he opened his door a couple of inches, peeking out and listening for any activity in the apartment. It was actually really quiet. Encouraged, he stuck his head all the way out, opening the door wider and looking down the hallway towards the living area. Nothing.

_Huh._ Nobody was home. 

He checked the clock on his nightstand. It read 14:13 in broad digital numbers.

 _Well, I guess that explains it._ He’d slept clear into the afternoon. He definitely deserved it though, after...Whatever the hell had happened.

He took his clothes to the bathroom, and plugging the sink, he filled it with cold water before dumping in his clothes from the night before. He turned on the hot water for the shower and stripped down before stepping in. The warm water rushing down his skin felt like a breath of fresh air. He let the heat seep into is muscles and the water rush down his face. He sighed.

Maybe he actually was fine.

Turning the water off, he reached for a towel, drying himself somewhat before wrapping it around his waist and stepping carefully over the wet tiles to the sink. The water was a murky yellow and smelled faintly of iron. He let it drain and grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. This wasn’t his first time cleaning blood off his clothing, but it was his first time doing it for such a large amount. Grabbing a washcloth and blotting it with the peroxide, he did his best to scrub it all out, working vigorously back and forth, but all it did was leave a slightly fainter tint of dark brown all over the clothes.

A hopeless effort. He’d liked that hoodie too. He threw the washcloth in the sink, and changed into his fresh clothes before grabbing the soaking wet ones and tossing them into the kitchen trash. Dumping a few other bits of garbage with it, he took out the bag, tied it up, and hauled it out to the dumpster. After heading back inside, he washed his hands and allowed himself to chill the fuck out for a second in the kitchen. The clock now read 15:20. He had a little over an hour until his shift at work started.

However, the last thing he wanted to do right now was sit in silence, so he wandered over to the sofa, sat down, turned on the TV, and shut off his brain until he had to leave for work.

\---

Ichigo worked a part time job at a lesser known bookstore chain within walking distance from the apartment. It wasn’t the shortest walking distance, but walking distance nonetheless. It was a midsized store, never needing more than three or four people working at the same time during a shift, and it was a good enough job for a college student like him. He was nearly halfway through his shift when he started to feel a little stranger. That odd little voice from earlier he had heard, kept poking at the edge of his consciousness. It was there, but swimming just out of reach.

He was helping a customer find a certain book when the voice came crashing through like a resounding gong in his head.

_**This one looks useless.** _

Ichigo stopped suddenly, eyes widening ever so slightly. The customer looked up at him from where they were standing, confused by Ichigo’s silence. Ichigo refocused on the man, gazing the few inches down towards him. Sure, he did look pretty weak. “What?”

“You were...showing me where I could find Kirino’s books here?” he said.

“Oh, yeah the Kirino Natsuo book you were looking for would be right over here.” Ichigo took a few steps further and reached out to the shelf, fingering through a couple of book spines when the voice rang again.

_**Why don’t you kill him? You could take him.** _

Ichigo’s fingers faltered. He wasn’t sure if he could keep telling himself that he was just hearing things. He quickly pulled the book out from the shelf, handing it to the man with more force than strictly necessary, who nearly dropped the book while Ichigo quickly dipped his head in goodbye and excused himself from the shop area. He strode through the aisles of books to the back door that lead to a small smoking area behind the building.

Once outside, he turned to the wall next to him and placed his head against it a little harder than he’d meant to, scrunching up his eyes and trying not to think terribly hard. Was he going crazy? Had he gotten his head hit a little too hard last night? So now he’s just hearing voices and feeling...out of whack while he’s just trying to do his job and make money?

 _ **You’re not going crazy,**_ it returned, sounding amused.

He squeezed his eyes tighter. _God, shut up._

_**This has nothing to do with God, don’t lump me in with that guy.** _

Ichigo shouted and kicked the wall in frustration. He took one big breath in before walking back inside, heading straight for his manager.

He rapped twice on the entrance to her office. He was about to knock again when he heard her voice from the other side. “Come in.”

Opening the door he saw her sitting at her desk, entering information into her work computer, her long dark hair tied into a low ponytail in the back. “What is it, Ichigo?”

Despite using a brain that felt like turmoil, he managed to organize his words enough to say, “I think I need to go home.”

“Huh?” she scowled at him.

“I have a migraine and I’ve felt like garbage all day, so I think I should go home.” He twisted the handle on the door he was still holding on to.

She grunted and looked back to her computer screen, stretching her arms out behind her back. There was an audible crack. “Yeah alright, you’ve looked like shit since you walked in, and you won’t be any good to me if you’re dead on your feet. Get on home.”

Mumbling out a quick “thanks” Ichigo turned, and went to the employee lockers to change out of his work shirt and apron. Grabbing his stuff from his locker, he all but booked it from the store, out into the evening air.

_**Finally, free of that place.** _

Ichigo lashed back at the voice, _whoever you are or whatever this is, if I’m going crazy, I don’t care, I’m going to need you to shut up for a second because I’m THIS close to a public freak out._

 _ **Oh, that sounds fun,**_ it purred.

“Oh my God!” He stopped on the sidewalk and shouted in frustration before he could catch himself. People in the vicinity gave him odd glances and a couple edged themselves away. The voice in his head was laughing at him. Shoving his hands back into his jacket pockets he continued stalking down the pavement.

_**Here, I’ll throw you a bone. One, like I said, you’re not crazy. Well you could be, but that has nothing to do with me.** _

_Christ, this is fucked up. I’ve got a whole other voice in my head trying to chill me out._

_**Two, my name is Grimmjow.** _

_Grimmjow? The hell kind of name is that?_

_**Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, it’s a demon kind of name. The hell kind of name is Ichigo?** _

_It’s Kurosaki Ichigo._

Grimmjow scoffed, and Ichigo stopped again. _Demon?_

_**Yes, demon. You know, ritual circles, Hellborn embodiments of sin, torment the innocent for fun, the whole package.** _

_You’re saying I’m being possessed by a demon._

_**Yup.** _

Of fucking course he was.

_And you’re the demon that’s possessing me._

_**Are you slow or something?** _

Ichigo began walking again.

_So then. If you’re a demon, how did you get in me? Was it what happened last night?_

He steered them in the direction of a nearby park.

_**Hah, so you don’t remember. Too much of a shock for you? I swear you humans are so delicate.** _

_Asshole._

_**I was summoned. Those ritualists were trying to summon a demon, one who wasn’t me. I’ve wanted out of that hellhole for ages though, so I jumped the fucker and took his ride. Next thing I see, I was in your body, and all those guys were surrounding me spouting ‘My Lord, my Lord’.** _

He sat them on a bench. Vaguely he recalled a bunch of figures in hoods, and being tied down. His heart jumped at the start of those recollections. _And then what happened?_

_**I killed them all, obviously.** _

Ichigo eyes widened. He saw the blood on his clothes.

_**I don’t give a fuck who they were, and I had to see if your body was going to hold up if I went all out.** _

_All that blood…_ Ichigo closed his eyes and dropped his head against the back of the bench. Well, if it was any consolation, they were related to some sort of demon summoning sacrificial cult. They weren’t the type of people you wanted to keep around. And they were trying to kill him. He kicked a leg out.

_So what... then you just. Dragged us to an alley and left me there?_

_**After taking us away from building we were in, and your body started to exhaust itself, yeah.** _

Well it’s good to know he didn’t leave him near the scene of the crime.

_You know if any of this shit gets out, we’re fucked right? I don’t know what it’s like in Hell, but we have laws here about killing other people. Cultists or not._

_**If it comes to that, I’ll just kill whoever tries to capture us.** _

Ichigo shuddered, _let’s hope it doesn’t come to that._

_**Anyway, I just got here, and would rather keep a low enough profile that I don't gather the attention of my...boss. Who I’m sure would be pissed as hell to see me.** _

_You have a boss?_

_**Don’t we all,**_ he replied begrudgingly.

Ichigo supposed that was true. However, whatever sort of politics that went down in Hell was decidedly something he did not want to get involved with.

_Can’t you just unpossess me? I’d rather not be involved in any of this, or you, at all._

_**Nope. I could physically manifest myself, but even in my most basic form I would wreak havoc on nearby weaker human souls. My presence being so strong, and all of that.** _

_Yeah, that sounds less than ideal._

Grimmjow grunted, _**besides if any more of those freaks came after us, I’ll just take them out for you.**_

_What makes you think I couldn’t defend myself?_

He was met with pointed silence. 

_They caught me off guard._

_**And outnumbered you, which isn’t an issue for me.** _

Well, that was true. And he didn’t even know who they were, but they apparently had it out for him.

_Alright,_ Ichigo acquiesced, _you stay. As long as we keep it low profile._

Grimmjow hummed agreement. 

_What do you even want to do here?_

_**Sightsee…Stir shit up.** _

_Stir what up?_

Instantly, Ichigo felt himself get thrown back, only his body didn’t move. Like his consciousness was tossed into the back seat, and he became less aware of his attachment to his surroundings, touch disappearing with smell. He couldn’t move, but he was able to see. Grimmjow had taken over, and this time he could watch. 

“Watch and learn, Kurosaki Ichigo.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh goddddddd


	3. Come to Blows

Standing up, Grimmjow led them off the bench to the end of the park. He glanced to the left and right a couple of times before heading back down the street in the direction they came.

_Hey, woah, where are you going?_

“Out.”

 _No, where are you taking us?_ Ichigo started trying to fight for control again. Grimmjow ignored it. “I’m not going to do anything” he put Ichigo’s hands up in air quotes “‘reckless’, don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

Ichigo glanced around what he could see through Grimmjow’s vision. _We’re not going back to my work are we?_

“Hell no.”

 _Can you stop speaking out loud?_ He nervously watched for other people’s reactions, sure that he would be labeled some sort of freak. Which currently he guessed, was actually true.

_**Maybe.** _

Grimmjow stopped them in front of a reflective store window, doing a quick look over of Ichigo’s body. He was holding back much of his power and appearance, so he looked and sounded just like Ichigo. No fangs, claws, or glowing eyes. He humphed.

_Should I be insulted?_

Grimmjow smirked and kept walking.

_How do you even know where you’re going?_

_**We share a consciousness. I can recall things you’ve got in your brain, but it’s a little shitty and fuzzy, so. I know where I’m going, more or less.** _

_And where’s that?_

_**A place. Relax, it’s just going to be a bit of fun.** _

Ichigo sighed inwardly. He stopped fighting and decided to let it play out for now, as he was curious to see where the demon would lead them.

They only walked for about five more minutes down the street before Grimmjow found what he was looking for.

“Ahah,” He grinned, rolling a short purr.

Ichigo recognized a familiar building corner, the fresh paint on the bricks not doing much to mask its age. They rounded the corner to a short flight of concrete stairs that led down to a dark wooden door. The door itself was a old, a few deeply scratched grooves making it look even older. It was open to let fresh air in despite the temperatures getting a little colder as the season dragged on. A window next to the door sported a neon sign that read “OPE” in bright orange letters, the “N” flashing on and off.

The entrance to a bar that Ichigo often visited.

Just past the door inside, sat on a cushioned metal chair at least 2 decades old was the bouncer. As Grimmjow walked them in, the bouncer turned, and with the effort of someone who has sat in the same seat for hours, got up and wordlessly held out his hand.

Grimmjow stared at it, and then looked back up. “What, do you want me to hold that for you?”

The man gave him a look. “ID,” came a short grunt.

 _In my back pocket_ , Ichigo chimed in.

Grimmjow reached back, patting around his ass a little more than necessary and smirking, earning a ‘ _watch it_ ’ from Ichigo. He finally pulled out the wallet, picking the card from it and handing it to the bouncer who looked at him strangely as he took it and administered it a quick glance, before handing it back.

He plucked it from the bouncer who sat down again, and Grimmjow slipped it back into the wallet, taking a look around the bar as he shoved it into a rear pocket.

It was dimly lit, as bars tend to be. The walls were a mix of wood paneling and dark plaster, various signs made of wood, metal, and neon lining them. There were small tables strewn throughout the open floor, with a couple of booths placed against the far wall. A light bulb adorned with a lampshade resided over every table. There was a single pool table in one of the corners, and to the left of the interior was the bar itself, surrounded by stools and lined by a wooden overhang that was draped with white icicle lights.

_Why did you bring us here?_

_**Isn’t a bar a good place to start a fight?** _

Together they looked around the bar that was sparsely populated. Most people were sat around drinking alone, or talking to someone they were with. Steady rock music played lowly in the background. Overall it was pretty quiet, the most disturbance being a couple of men at the pool table in the corner, talking at each other louder than was strictly necessary.

 _I don’t think there’s going to be any bar brawling right now_ , Ichigo said as he began slipping himself back into his own form.

_**Maybe if we just rattle a couple of ‘em up…** _

_I don’t think so._

Grimmjow _tsked_ and let Ichigo take back over, remaining close in case anything came up.

Ichigo headed over to the bar, making eye contact with the bartender and ordering a rum and coke. He settled onto a stool and took the drink as it was set in front of him, giving it a lengthy sip. He let the cool bitterness slip down his throat and set his glass back down with a clink.

_**Come on, how about that guy a couple seats down? I’m sure he’d be willing to fight.** _

Ichigo gave said man a thoughtful glance. He appeared to be staring into his drink rather attentively. Or hopelessly.

_Nope._

_**Well, we’ve got to start something.** _

_I don’t start fights, Grimmjow, I just finish them._

_**Then let me start them.** _

_Not now, or here._

_**Then what did I bring us to this bar for?**_ he replied in frustration.

_To get me a drink?_

Grimmjow growled.

A clatter came from behind them, in the direction of the pool table occupied by the two louder men. Ichigo glanced back to see one of them had his hand on the collar of the other. Some inebriated quarrel over the game they had just finished.

“You cheated! I wasn’t lookin’ and you cheated.” said the first, holding the other who was smirking while he had his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t cheat, you just suck.” he replied with smug laughter.

That didn’t seem to placate the first man though, who glared harder and shook the other guys’ collar. Together they stumbled into a table occupied by another customer, the elbows of the one being manhandled crashing onto the table’s surface. He turned to look at the occupant in apology before reversing back to his angered companion. “Hey, there’s no need to get upset yeah? Even though you lost fair and square,” he gave the other a drunkenly pointed look, “I’ll buy you a drink and we can play another round. You can even break.”

That seemed to hit a positive note in the first guy, who nodded after a moment, letting go of the other man’s collar. The other stood up, giving the first a grin and pat on his back as they headed over toward the bar.

Ichigo turned back and took another swig of his drink. The two men’s voices came closer, and as they did a hand slammed down onto the bar a couple feet away from Ichigo. He looked over to see the angrier man grimacing over at him. “That’s quite some hair there, huh? You bleach it or something? Tryin’to make some sorta statement?”

“It’s natural.” He replied, swirling his drink around. He could literally feel Grimmjow’s anticipation beginning to grow.

“No fuckin’ way.” He scoffed loudly. “You’re walkin’ around lookin’ like you are, expecting people to believe that?” He stretched his hand out to touch Ichigo’s hair, who only meant to retaliate by swatting it away, but Grimmjow reached in, taking control for a second long enough to grab the man by the wrist, turn to him, and give him a wicked glare saying, “you wanna play?”

The man’s eyes widened and he froze, leaning away from Ichigo who had regained control quickly enough to swipe his hand away from the man’s wrist. The eyes of the others in the bar were on him as he turned back in his seat and muttered a small apology, face heating up as he downed the last of his drink. He threw some money on the counter and sped out of there.

 _ **What are you doing**_ , Grimmjow protested, “that was perfect!” he said as he took over again, turning them to head back.

Ichigo pulled them away. _No! I’m not out here to start fights with random drunk guys at bars._ The sky had darkened further by this time, street lights and bright business windows shone in the night.

“Then what good are you?” Grimmjow snarled back, turning Ichigo’s head angrily to the side, as if someone would be there for him to glare at, but it was just empty space.

“What happened to keeping a low profile?” Ichigo returned, forcing his legs to keep moving from the bar building and down the street.

Grimmjow growled, trying to take control again, and they made a ruckus down the street, fighting over dominance. _It’s MY body_ , Ichigo resisted, _so let it go!_

Suddenly they heard a commotion down a small nearby alleyway, and they both stopped, Ichigo's body gripping its own neck in a choke hold.

A few voices came into ear shot as Grimmjow crept them closer out of curiosity, hand loosening from his neck and slowly dropping down.

“Quit struggling.” Came a man’s low voice, echoed by a chuckle from another, who were both followed by the muffled sounds of someone who was clearly struggling.

Grimmjow rounded the corner of the alley, Ichigo’s tall stature casting a long shadow across the ground. Across from them in the middle of the darkness stood three men and a young woman, one of which had an arm holding hers behind her back. He pressed her against the brick wall while covering her mouth with his second hand. The other two men had ugly smiles on their faces, caging in the first two on both sides.

Ichigo quickly grasped the situation.

“Hey,” Grimmjow called out, “you gonna have all the fun without me?” he sneered, a deadly smirk growing on his face. Body coiling and legs tensing as he readied to strike at any moment, like a cat cornering its prey.

All four faces turned to look at them, the men in annoyance, the woman’s full of fear. She whined through the man’s hand, and he pressed down harder. “And who the hell are you?”

_**You don’t have a problem with THIS do you?** _

_Hell no._

Grimmjow purred. “I’m your worst nightmare," he replied.

_That was lame._

_**Shut up**_ , he replied, eyes flashing as he leapt forward. He took the first guy off the girl in a right hook so powerful it pummeled the man straight to the ground, and followed it with a brutal left as he fell onto the man’s body. The other two jumped at him, one going to grip him and pull him up from behind while the second reared back for a kick. Grimmjow grabbed the arm of the one who had gone behind him, yanking him towards his front, cutting off the other’s attack and forcing the kick into him instead. The man groaned as the foot dug into his abdomen and up towards his ribs.

“Can’t you guys do any better?” roused Grimmjow as he shifted to his heels and launched at the one that was still standing, stumbling back after kicking his ally.

The woman, now free, slowly scooted away down the wall, keeping an eye on Grimmjow and the others. She shakily gathered up her belongings that had dropped. Disheveled, she ran out of the alley and into the lit street as Grimmjow brought the third man to the ground. He kicked him viciously, twice in the ribs, earning from it a couple of strangled gasps. Bringing his foot down hard on the man’s chest, he bent close. “You fight like shit.”

Leaning up and looking back to the others, he saw the second man slowly getting up off the ground, the first one not moving from where he had fallen on the pavement.

Ichigo was floored. He knew this was a literal demon fighting here, but Goddamn there wasn’t a scratch on him, and it had all happened so fast. He’d never seen anyone fight like that. It was…amazing.

Grimmjow smirked, “thanks.”

Giving the man one last kick to the head, he stalked over to the one that was still getting up. “Ah, ah, ah,” he shook his head, “you get to stay down.” Before the man could fully pull himself up, he barrelled his fist down in full strength on the back of the man’s neck, who fell limply to the ground.

Grimmjow straightened up Ichigo’s back, bringing them to a full stand that towered over the three bodies. Together they looked around. All three of the men were still, and the woman was gone. The alleyway was silent. They stood alone there for a second in silence before Grimmjow grunted and headed out.

 

\---

 

It was late when they finally returned back to the apartment, and God, Ichigo was tired. Grimmjow may not have given him a single scratch on his body, but he felt the toll of the fight under his skin and in the muscles from his shoulders to his feet. Having a demon possessing him that was able to take his body over at any time was great and all, don’t get him wrong, but that fight also felt like it exhausted him more than a normal one ever would have. Like the force of Grimmjow had pushed his muscles to work at their limit, just to contain and convey that much power. As he walked through the door into the apartment, Ichigo looked down at his hand, flexing it into a fist and back, wondering how different the same movement felt for Grimmjow when he was controlling his body. Or did it feel the same?

He toed his shoes off at the entrance, and stepping into the main hall he looked towards the living room. It was quiet except for the low sound of the T.V. that had been left on, it’s glow casting shadows over the otherwise dark room. Walking over to turn it off, he noticed two figures on the couch. Renji and Rukia were both deep asleep, one on either side of it. Renji had his legs crossed one over the other, his arms spread out wide and head tilted all the way back, mouth open. On the other end was Rukia, curled with her feet up on the couch, hand cradling the remote. Her head was leaning on the armrest, dark hair nearly masking her still face.

As Ichigo stood looking at them both, Grimmjow cut in. _**These your friends?**_

 _Yeah_ , Ichigo replied.

_**Hm.** _

Ichigo suddenly felt like doing something he never did. Gently tugging the remote out of Rukia’s hands, he pointed it to the T.V. and turned it off. Snagging the couch pillow that had fallen to the floor, he laid it on the carpet next to Rukia. He took the blanket from the small chair, pulled it over to the foot of the couch, and lay down. Resting with his arms back and his head cradled in his hands, he stared at the ceiling. It was dark, and his roommates breathed deeply in their sleep. He imagined the monotonous ticking of a clock.

_**The bed would be better.** _

_Yeah, but not tonight._ He breathed in and out, closing his eyes.

Maybe it was the fact that the demon in him was now somewhat satisfied, having finally gotten the fight he wanted, but Ichigo felt content as well. Maybe as much as he acted like he wanted to avoid fights, he secretly missed the high they gave as well. The older he got the less it felt like he could mess around and get away with it.

_I don’t know how often I could do it, but I wouldn’t mind if we did that again._

_**Fighting?** _

_Yeah._

_**Good.** _

_But not too much. I don’t need a reputation. It’s still my face everyone sees, you know._

_**Hmm**_ , came Grimmjow’s reply, like a drawn out purr.

Ichigo was sure it was intended to mean that Grimmjow would only consider it, but it sounded enough like an agreement to him.

 

The minutes passed and he fell asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope that fight comes across well enough. blocking is...hard.
> 
> also i should try posting earlier than 2am for once *cries*


	4. Switch Gears

Ichigo awoke to the smell of cooking food, and quiet sizzling. He scrunched his eyes as he came to consciousness, opening them to a nice view of the carpet, surprised to find that he’d actually slept the whole night out there. He shifted under the blanket, noticing that he’d been given a second one sometime during the night. Laying on his stomach, he kicked his legs out of the covers and stretched, yawning before he scratched at the back of his neck. Finally pulling his arms out as he pushed up into a sitting position, Ichigo leaned his back against the couch. With his bedhead making his hair just a bit messier than usual, he turned to the kitchen.

Ishida was wearing Rukia’s bunny patterned cooking apron and working hastily to make a small breakfast. It was about 10:15 in the morning, and Ishida’s class would be soon. Ichigo cleared the night out of his throat and deep blue eyes looked over to him. “Finally awake, are you?” Ishida asked.

“Yeah, ‘finally’.” He stretched again, and the blankets fell off his shoulders.

Ishida quickly flipped something in a skillet and turned off the burner, placing the bit of food in a bowl and bringing it into view. He set it down at the dining room table and gestured at it with his finger to Ichigo, “I already had mine.”

“Ah, thanks Uryuu, you didn’t have to.” Ichigo replied, watching as Uryuu motioned him off with a simple “yes”, carefully removing the apron and hanging it up. He reached for his school bag he had set aside nearby, picked it up, and pulled its long strap over his head to place it on his shoulder. “Don’t forget we have calculus later. And don’t forget your food.”

Ichigo sleepily dropped his head back against the seat cushion, “Okay,” he drawled out, releasing another yawn.

Ishida stopped and looked at him, and at the pause Ichigo turned his head to the side to return it.

“And,” he said making a waving motion up over his own head. “Make sure you brush your hair. It’s bad, even for you.”

Ichigo rolled his eyes over and turned back away. “Give me a break, I just woke up.”

“Obviously,” he returned. “Just making sure you were aware.” He readjusted the shoulder strap on his bag and pushed his glasses farther back up the bridge of his nose. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo replied staring back at the ceiling, one hand lazily raising to wave a goodbye. Ishida’s steps receded and the door at the entrance to the apartment opened and closed.

 _ **He seems like fun,**_ came Grimmjow sarcastically.

Ichigo squinted at that. 

Was Ishida fun? He’d never considered him fun, but he didn’t think he was particularly...not fun. Maybe a bit fussy, but all his friends seemed to fuss over him to some extent. He guessed he was just the type to incur fussiness, as much as he didn’t need it.

_Yeah, he’s alright._

Ichigo’s stomach growled and he finally stood up, giving his back a crack and heading over to the table. Ishida had left him a simple bowl of rice topped with a couple of fried eggs, lightly seasoned.

Grimmjow looked at it curiously, _**What’s this?**_

_Food._

_**Obviously. Just...never had it before. Do you like it?** _

Ichigo nodded, _Usually._ He sat down. _You don’t eat in Hell?_

_**Not this type of food.** _

_What do you eat then?_

_**Souls.** _

_Ah….fair enough._ Ichigo replied. He was just not going to think about that one. _Well, I guess this is your chance to try what we’ve got here._

Ichigo picked up the chopsticks and took a bite, giving it a smack with his tongue before swallowing. A quiet hum left his lips. It was just eggs and rice the way they always were, but having a warm meal first thing in the morning was the best, and God he was hungry. He thought he felt satisfaction rise up from Grimmjow as well.

 _ **Let me see it,**_ Grimmjow forced his way in over Ichigo, taking control and scrutinizing the chopsticks. He held them in Ichigo’s hands, giving them an experimental pinch.

_Hey! I was using those._

“Well, now I am.” Grimmjow replied as he dug in. Ichigo gave no push to take them back. Afterall, he was still eating it even if he wasn’t the one...eating it he supposed.

_Alright, but only because you haven’t had food before._

Grimmjow grunted.

He supposed the demon liked people food.

\---

Ichigo could hardly stand math. He could do it, of course, was even pretty good at it, he just really didn’t want to do it at this point. As a literature major, it wasn’t even necessary, beyond what he needed for his general education requirements. What was worse was how Grimmjow had been moping around in his head almost since they had gotten there. He couldn’t understand why they were there in class if neither of them wanted to be. Ichigo had tried his best to explain the necessity of it, but it was a bit harder to be convincing when you weren’t really into it either. Not that Grimmjow was capable of being convinced that human school was necessary anyway.

Ichigo tapped his pencil against his notebook, eyes rolling and trailing to the window that led outside. _You don’t have to ‘get it’, just know that if you’re going to be staying here, this is a thing that is going to keep happening._

_**But what good will any of this do you? It’s overcomplicated. Why do humans torture themselves like this?**_ He was practically oozing exasperation. 

_I don’t make the rules okay, I don’t know, Grimmjow I don’t want to be here either._

_**Exactly!** _

_But we’re staying._

Grimmjow seethed for a second and grumbled, _**I should be the one up front. I’ve been alive longer than everyone here. I could show that pansy looking-ass some shit he’s never seen.**_

Ichigo glanced up to the somewhat dweeby looking professor at the front of the class and held back a snicker, when he became suddenly curious. _How old are you?_ He asked. 

_**Old enough for at least three of your human lifetimes. Judging by the age of the souls I’ve seen while I’ve been here, closer to four.** _

_Is that old for a demon?_

_**Old is relative. I’m considered pretty young for a demon. The higher ups are twice my age and more.** _

No wonder Grimmjow had wanted out of Hell. All he seemed to know was how to fight. Ichigo couldn’t imagine what it must be like to live such a long life. Perhaps time wouldn’t matter if you lived it all in Hell. But if all you did was wander around in fire and fight for nearly four centuries, who wouldn’t want to take a vacation? Then again, Grimmjow was the only demon so determined to get out as far as he knew. 

Human ways must seem so strange and insignificant to demons, yet Grimmjow wanted to be here. Ichigo began thinking not for the first time, how he’d be considered strange for how well he’s gone along with this entire situation he’d somehow gotten into. Perhaps he really was strange. It wasn’t normal to take it all as well as he was. It wasn’t normal to house a demon in your body, and it wasn’t normal to kind of be okay with it. 

But maybe Grimmjow was also an odd one out. 

\--- 

Days passed, and Ichigo got increasingly used to Grimmjow’s residence in his body. The demon was wild and unpredictable, but he was learning that he was also easy to understand. He liked to fight, and Ichigo had to admit that he enjoyed it too, as much as he wanted to deny it. Fighting was always something he’d done as a way of self defense, but supposed that somewhere throughout the years he had begun to enjoy it. 

Not like Grimmjow did though. 

He really was like a beast, though that was to be expected from a demon out of Hell. After all the fights they had gone through, all of them had been short lived, and resulting without a scratch on them. Yet as many fights as they had gotten into, not a single one had left a casualty. It seemed Grimmjow had been making good on his promise to lie low, the two of them managing each other's desires to reach a balance that could work for the both of them. How long Grimmjow would want to stay in this world was unknown, but for the time being he was here, and he seemed to be adjusting to life with Ichigo fairly well. As strenuous as housing a demon in your body could be, Ichigo found himself starting to enjoy Grimmjow’s company. 

Which meant something was wrong with him. He was sure there had to be, but oddly enough it didn’t bother him. Perhaps it was strange, but surely there was something good to be said about being able to adapt so quickly. 

Evening came upon Ichigo with demon in tow, after another spat on the street. He felt a bit ruffed up but Grimmjow had brought them out on top with only one or two visible bruises. Returning to the apartment, he was met by the appetizing aroma of a home cooked meal. Both his stomach and the demon in him rumbled at the smell. It was a Friday, and Fridays were the nights Rukia made dinner. 

“I’m home!” He breathed deeply, taking the scent in as he kicked off his shoes and headed in. He could feel Grimmjow’s excitement at another freshly cooked meal. 

“Ichigo,” Rukia called from the kitchen “welcome back!” 

Ichigo rounded the corner and saw Renji leaning against the kitchen counter next to Rukia with his arms crossed. Renji’s eyes lazily followed her hands as they expertly tossed the ingredients on the stove, but looked up as Ichigo entered. Renji gave him a two-fingered salute and a “Yo, Ichigo,” which he returned. Rukia looked up from the stove. “Dinner will be ready soon, so go put your stuff away and-” 

She stopped immediately, noticing a bruise on Ichigo’s lower jaw. She turned to him as her brow furrowed, “Have you been fighting again?” 

It wasn’t really a question, she knew the answer. 

Ichigo was suddenly uncomfortable, as both sets of eyes were on him expecting an answer. He lifted a finger to scratch at his jaw with a chuckle and an excuse on his lips. “Uh.. yeah it was just something small, no big deal. You know how people are sometimes.” He shrugged looking at the ground, slowly pressing a couple of fingers against his jaw. 

Rukia scrutinised him for a moment longer before giving into a light sigh, and turning back to cook. “Alright then, try to avoid it next time.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Ichigo replied looking back up and dropping his hand. 

Renji gave him a nod, “Did you kick their ass at least?” 

Remembering the decently sized group of ruffians Grimmjow had effectively beat without a sweat, Ichigo laughed. “You bet I did.” 

_**Oh, so I don’t get any credit, huh?** _

Ichigo ignored him as Renji replied, with a finger gun an an “Atta boy.” Which earned him an short glare from Rukia. 

Ichigo gave Renji a thumbs up behind Rukia and headed to his room. 

_**Is she your girl?** _

_My girl?_

_**Yeah, dark hair, big eyes, are you two fucking?** _

Ichigo let out an startled bark at the bluntness of the statement. _She’s not my girl! She’s just Rukia._

Grimmjow paused and then hummed, _**...Yeah, she’s too pretty for you.**_

_Hey!_ Ichigo almost exclaimed out loud, dropping his bag to the ground as Grimmjow guffawed. _I’ll have you know that I have gotten with her before._

Grimmjow whistled in reply, which was a strange sound to hear coming from your own head. 

_It just didn’t really work out. We’re better as friends, you know?_

Grimmjow hummed again, _**So she’s free game?**_

_Nah, she’s dating Renji. Besides, what are you gonna do? You’re in my body._

_**Hey, you could probably use some tail. Or I could hop out and do it with my own body, see how that goes.** _

_Didn’t you say that was dangerous?_

_**Worth a shot.**_ Somehow Ichigo knew that if Grimmjow was in his own body right now, he’d be smirking. 

Ichigo shook his head but was biting his cheek to hold back a chuckle as he left his room. “Where’s Uryuu?” he called. 

“Studying in his room, we assume.” Renji replied from the kitchen, “Go get him, will you?” 

“And tell him if he doesn’t come eat, I’ll tie him to the kitchen chair and make him. He needs to take a break at some point.” Rukia added. 

Ichigo’s laugh echoed down the hall and his feet thumped against the hardwood floors as he walked through the living room to Ishida’s door. Rukia and Renji always got home after Ishida, so of course if he had gone straight to his room to study, none of them would have even shared a word with him since they got back. Ichigo knocked on the door twice. “Oi, Uryuu! Dinner’s ready.” 

He waited a second, heard the ceiling fan spinning faintly in his room, but didn’t receive an answer. 

He kicked the door with the side of his foot to make a louder noise, and Rukia barked at him to not dent the door “or else it’s coming out of your pocket!” Ichigo just smiled at her and turned back. “Uryuu! It’s dinner time, get your ass out here.” He waited another couple of seconds, shifting about on his tiptoes, but still it was quiet. He probably had headphones on. 

Trying the handle on Ishida’s door, he found that it was unlocked, and opened it. 

Ishida’s typically tidy room was trashed. Almost immediately, alarm bells set off in Ichigo’s head. His desk that was usually well-organized had papers and things scattered about it, many of his belongings on the floor. Everything was not where it should be, as if someone or something had come crashing through, without a care for Ishida’s belongings. The fan was on (he never left it on when he wasn’t there) and the window was open, a breeze blowing in under the curtain letting a slight chill slip in from outside. 

_**His room doesn’t usually look like this does it.** _

Ichigo slowly shook his head. This wasn’t right at all, in fact something was very wrong. Ichigo gently shut the door to the room, completely leaving behind a playful argument that Rukia and Renji were having back in the kitchen. It was silent now, and Ichigo could feel his heart begin to pick up speed. Slowly he walked through the room to the window, closing and locking it. Turning around he surveyed the room again, noticing a small lightly coloured paper secured with tape to Ishida’s desk, standing out from everything else. He crooked his head to the side as he crept over to it. Picking the paper up with quiet hands, he held his breath and read the four little words scribbled onto its surface.

> “We have your friend.” 

The words were accompanied only by an address.

Ichigo’s hand began to shake as it held the letter. The silence and his heart pounded into his eardrums as he read and re-read the note, making sure he didn’t misunderstand. 

Grimmjow didn’t say anything, and he couldn’t feel anything either except for his own fear turning into an overwhelming rush of panic and anger. Hands clenched into a fist, the paper crumpling with it. Someone had his friend. Someone or some group of people had Uryuu and he could hardly breathe. There was only one thing to do. 

He shoved the note into his front pocket, hands resting at his sides. He closed his eyes, tilted his head up, and took in a steadying breath, but nothing was going to calm him down. 

_**What are you going to do?** _

_I’m going to go get him,_ he replied without even a moment of hesitation. 

Ichigo felt satisfaction rise up from Grimmjow, as well as a determination that matched his own. Although, Ichigo vaguely supposed he was just rearing for another fight. 

First he needed to get out of the apartment without alerting Rukia and Renji. There was no doubt in his mind that this was somehow tied to him and Grimmjow’s recent activities, and he didn’t want to get them involved. There was no time to explain anything, and it would be a lot for them both to take in even if he told them the bare minimum. It was bad enough that he’d already put Ishida in danger, he didn’t need to put them at risk as well. 

He would get Ishida back and it would be okay. He’d make sure of it. 

After heading back to the door he took one more deep breath and stepped back out into the rest of the apartment. 

Renji was watching Rukia with a smile on his face, as they finished up their conversation, and Rukia finished cooking. 

They had no idea. 

The pair both looked up at him as he left the room and he did his best to school is face from the mess of emotions he was feeling into something milder. 

He quickly came up with the fastest excuse he could muster. “I actually just realized I was supposed to meet Ishida somewhere after class and I totally forgot, so I’m just going to give him a call and head out. He’s probably been waiting this whole time.” His heart pounded and he closed the door to Ishida’s room as he gave a strained chuckle that he hoped sounded convincing enough. 

Rukia replied curiously, “Oh, what were you guys going to do?” 

“Uh, I’m...actually not sure, he said he was going to tell me when we got there.” Renji raised his eyebrow and his eyes followed Ichigo as he headed past them towards the front door, “it probably won’t take too long so don’t wait up for us.” He needed to make sure they weren’t too suspicious. Right before he left he called out, “Seriously it’s fine, just don’t eat all the food!” Rukia was about to say something, as Ichigo closed the door and he was out. 

He let out a short sigh of relief before he was charging down the apartment building’s steps. 

He pulled the crumpled note from his pocket and studied the address as he headed down the street. He thanked his lucky stars he knew well enough where to go, his only concern being Ishida’s current state. How long had he been gone? Who precisely had him, and had they done anything to him? 

It was taking all of the concentration Ichigo could muster to watch for street names and landmarks, the rest of his body set in fight or flight, very much leaning towards fight. Once he saw whoever had taken his friend, he’d make sure they regretted every action they took that had led their life to that moment. Would do worse if he found that Ishida had been hurt. 

He was so riled up that it took him longer than it should have to recognize that Grimmjow was telling him to slow down as they got closer to the designated address. 

_**Kurosaki, I’m telling you something’s not right!** _

Ichigo’s steps halted only slightly. _What?_

_**This is wrong, I sense demonic energy, and I’m telling you, you need to let up. I'll handle this.** _

_What? No, that’s my friend they have in there, and I’m going to be the one to go in and get him!_

_**You can’t go in there and fight a fucking demon! Let me go in and take care it.** _

_I can’t just- Uryuu is my friend, I can’t just leave this up to you!_

_**You know I am not above taking control by force. You cannot. Fight. A demon. Now, hand it over.** _

Ichigo wanted to scream and punch the nearest alley wall. 

Instead he clenched his teeth, swallowed his frustration, and gritted out a “Fine! But I’m going to be right there with you,” unable to concede any more than that. 

Grimmjow took what he was given, commanding Ichigo’s body and sensing how ready he was to take back control at the drop of a hat. With Ichigo so close, Grimmjow could really feel his conviction. He hadn’t felt anything as strong as this from the human in the days they’d spent sharing a body. It was a fire that burned into his psyche, forcing him to notice it. Like eyes on the back of his head, he couldn’t shake the feeling if he tried. Ichigo was there, asserting his will to fight and protect, and it propelled Grimmjow’s desire to fight even more. 

_Let’s go._

Brown eyes flashed blue and Grimmjow grinned, “Gladly.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i did this really cool thing where, not Only did i get writers block and become totally stuck and unsure which direction i wanted to take the story, but i also became ungodly busy, getting a job, as well as con crunching, picking up cosplay wig commissions, actually going to conventions, and helping my friend move.
> 
> last week i was finally able to put together a plan for these chapters and drag myself out of that writer's block, so here's what we've got!
> 
> i also suddenly....had so many ideas for this story the past couple of weeks so. this fic might just end up being quite a bit longer than i anticipated. but such is the way of things!
> 
> anyway, i hope you liked, and remember: comments stroke my ego! :3c


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